Chapter 7
SEVEN
Ramsey
My warm welcome home the next morning is climbing out of a creaky old bed that’s two sizes too small in my childhood bedroom and a cup of cold coffee and a half-stale bagel that my wife has left out alongside a box of bran flakes. Kit’s signature farmer’s plate with eggs over easy, crisp bacon, and perfectly buttered toast is calling my name right now, but going there would mean seeing Hazel first thing, and I’m trying to give her space. She was prickly as fuck last night when she set me up in the guest room and shoved a few towels in my hands before disappearing into the master. Apparently, returning to marital bliss is going to take us a minute or two.
After I help Elliot, the ranch hand who’s been around since my days here, feed some of the horses, I wander into the old pole barn. I’m hoping that my bike has had the same sort of luck as Wolfsbane, and I’ll find her right where I left her—pushed in a back corner covered up, figuring I’d be back at some point to get her. I figure the chances Hazel’s been back here clearing things out isn’t high when she’s always stuck in the inn.
I find it tucked behind a new pile of things she must have moved out of the house. They’re tarped but covered in a fine layer of dust; among them is my old den couch and a poker table she hated from the day I got it. I smirk at the fact they’re still here, too, taking up space. Maybe it’s desperate that I’m seeing all this as hope—the fact that she’s pushed me off to the edges of her life but hasn’t dumped me completely.
Unfortunately, but not surprisingly, the bike doesn’t roar to life when I try. So I push it out to the far side of the gravel lot and get some help from Elliot loading it into one of the ranch trucks before he tosses me the keys.
“Just don’t tell her I helped you. Lie and say you stole it.” Elliot gives me a mock threatening look because he’s not trying to get on Hazel’s shit list, and I don’t blame him. I’d probably be better off buying a new truck, but I have to get to a dealership first. Without heading all the way back into the city, that would mean stepping foot on my brothers’ territory—not a move I’m ready for yet.
“No problem.”
“Where are you taking it?”
“Down to Briggs’s, I guess.” Hazel’s brother, and my former best friend, owns a shop. From what I’ve heard, he’s more absent owner than worker bee these days, so there’s a chance I’ll miss him. If I don’t, I imagine I’m not in for a warm welcome there either. He never did forgive me for how things went down with her, even if he didn’t blame me.
“Oof. I guess they’re the best option if you don’t want to go to Springs or Pueblo, but good luck to you on that.” Elliot’s face scrunches with the same realization I’m having .
“Gotta rip the Band-Aid off if I’m gonna be staying here.” I answer as I climb in the driver’s seat.
“Guess that’s fair.” He waves me off a moment later, and I crank up the music, trying to drown out all the second thoughts I’m having on every decision I’ve made lately.
I get the bike into the shop and the paperwork filled out within the hour. I forgot how quick small-town service can be when you’re not standing in a ticketed line waiting on the twenty people in front of you. I’m headed back to the ranch truck, contemplating lunch at the café, when I see Bo leaning on the door, his feet crossed at his ankles. His brows raise as he sizes me up, no doubt surprised to see me instead of Elliot or Kell—one of the people he thought would be coming back to the Bull Rush Ranch branded truck.
“Well, well, well. Look what the fuckin’ goddamn wind blew in. Haze said you were back with your little bitch-boy tail between your legs, but I told her I wouldn’t believe it until I saw it with my own eyes.” The smile on his face betrays the words he uses.
“Well, I would have called, but then there was that little thing where you threatened to stuff my balls down my throat if you saw me again. It’s rough on a friendship.”
“What’s rough on a friendship is when you make my baby sister cry for a week straight.” His brow raises along with the accusation.
“She seems to have recovered.”
“She’s done a lot more than that. You seen what she’s done with the place? Those ladies love it.”
“She’s made some choices, that’s for sure.”
“’Bout to make one of them permanent, and you show up just in time to try to stop it. I’d say it’s fate the way you keep doing that, but I’m starting to wonder if you’ve got a sixth sense.” Bo muses, and though I’m momentarily distracted by the thought of Hazel in college, I frown at my friend’s implication.
“You think she’s making a mistake?” I ask.
“I think I don’t like the fucker she’s marrying,” he answers flatly.
“She seems to think he shits rainbows. Made it seem like you all were on board.”
“I don’t argue with her about her choices. You know that best of all. I’d have fuckin’ stopped it if I thought she’d listen and saved her a whole lot of heartache in the process.” Like I said, Bo won’t let me off easy.
“Yeah, well… that’s a two-way street with her. She doesn’t make anyone’s life easy.”
“I thought that’s what you liked best about her.” Bo draws up off the truck and smirks. He’s not wrong. A good part of our relationship was built on being fascinated with trying to wrangle each other into submission.
“Well, I’m sure I’m headed for a hell of a lot more of it, so I guess I’ll find out.” I nod to the door he’s blocking. “I should probably get on my way.”
“No time for a beer then?” Bo nods across the street to Morton’s Bar, and I raise a brow.
“Are we on good enough terms for that, or is this a trick where I walk in the door and you and your brothers beat the fucking shit out of me? ‘Cause I gotta say, I’m not in the mood to beat all your asses today.”
“I’d guess not after a prison sentence.” His smirk draws wider.
“Make a joke about the soap, and I’ll fuck you up right here. ”
“Was it like that?” His smirk drops like lead, and concern clouds his face.
“Nah. Low security. A lot of lawyers and white-collar types. They were more scared of me than anything else.” Prison had been fucking awful, but it certainly could have been a lot worse.
“Well… I’m glad you’re in one piece after all that. I figure if Haze can look past all of it, I can try.” There’s a moment of quiet, the death of our grudge passing in between us, transforming into something more akin to a mutual understanding that hard decisions sometimes have to be made.
“It’s not like I’ve got anywhere to be right now.” I return his gesture. I could use my friend right now, if he’s willing to mend fences, I’m more than happy to help.
“Good.” He slaps me on the back, and we head across the street.
We’re a couple of beers in and nearly caught up on the state of his life. He’s still single, running the garage and a couple of side businesses, still playing enforcer—including moonlighting for my brothers’ casino on occasion, and still every bit the lovable asshole he’s always been. But then he glances out the window and turns back to me with the kind of look that could send a chill down your spine.
“I’m trusting you with this next part. I’m saying this to you as family—since you still are—and someone who loves Haze. If you use this against her or tell her—especially that I told you—I will put you six feet under this time,” he threatens. I roll my shoulders back instinctively as a wave of apprehension courses through me, but I nod my understanding. I have no doubt Bo would follow through; we’re more alike than either of us want to admit.
“Hit me.”
“I’m actually glad you’re back. I don’t trust that slimy little fuck living with her. I think he’s hiding something. Anson and Cade and me… we’ve been keeping an eye on him. We don’t have enough to say anything to her yet. If she has any doubts, she’ll dig her heels in and tell me to fuck off. So I don’t want her getting a single fucking idea that we think anything’s up until I know for sure.”
“What has you thinking he’s a problem? Seems like a prick, sure. Not good enough for her. But I didn’t get an immediate piece of shit vibe from him.”
“Not good enough for her.” Bo laughs as he shakes his head. “Brother, you got some fuckin’ nerve sayin’ that.”
“I might not be good enough, but you know a grave couldn’t hold me down from keeping her safe. So tell me what’s going on.”
“Just little things.” He leans back in his seat, glancing around the room to make sure no one’s in earshot. “One day I caught him up in the loft of the pole barn poking around. Another time, he was out in one of the fields with a metal detector. Claimed he fucking lost a watch out there riding, but I never saw him wear one. Then Cade’s on his way back one night from Springs, and he sees him arguing with a woman in the parking lot of a motel off 50.”
“Did he see Cade?”
“No. Cade didn’t get out of the car and was just hitting the drive-thru there.”
“I mean, weird, but all of that could have an explanation.”
“You have a lot of late-night arguments with women in motel parking lots while your girlfriend waits at home that turn out innocent?” Bo’s sarcasm leaks through his words .
“No, but he could have hit her bumper pulling out, or she could be family that we don’t know about. I’m just saying there are explanations that aren’t sinister.” I don’t really believe them, but I’m trying to explore all the possibilities first. Hazel really did seem to have her shit together these days, and despite the fact I have my reasons to hate him—I can’t deny that they looked like a picture-perfect couple at dinner.
“Occam’s razor, brother. If it looks like it… in my experience, it usually is.”
“Fair enough. I’m not trying to defend the prick. I’d just as well see him gone.”
“Would you?” Bo levels me with a hard look. “What’s your plan anyway?”
“Staying out of trouble until this divorce goes through and I figure out what I’m doing next. Just trying to keep my parole officers happy.” It’s not a total lie. I do want them off my back, and I need to figure out what’s next now that the Chaos isn’t exactly banging down my door to get me back.
“I don’t buy that for one fucking minute.” Bo looks at me like I’m a fucking idiot for even attempting to bullshit him.
“Yeah, well, you always were cheap as fuck then, weren’t you?” I dodge the accusation.
He ignores my attempt at humor and leans back in, lowering his voice. “You break her heart again, I’ll break every bone in your body. I don’t give a fuck what you two get up to. You need to let her settle old scores or get some closure—you’re both adults. But don’t you dare fucking make her cry again, you hear me?”
“Understood,” I grit out the word.
“I’m glad.” He finishes his beer, and his phone buzzes. Something about the message distracts him, and he stands suddenly.
“I should get back. We’ll talk more about everything, but it was good catching up with you.” He drops a few bills on the table and stands to leave.
“Later.”
He nods as he heads out, disappearing out the back door and leaving me to make small talk with the server while she runs our bill.
I wouldn’t exactly call us friends again, but at least I’m off the worst of his shit list. Now I’ve just gotta worry about what the fuck Curtis has been up to.